


Faced with a Dodo's Conundrum

by ModestlyRogue



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Bully Liam, Butt Sex, Café, Cheesy, Crying, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Gay Sex, Gay Smut, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Larry Sex, Larry Stylinson sex, Liam - Freeform, Liam Payne - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles one shot, Louis is a Tease, Love, Love Poems, M/M, Marriage, Niall Horan - Freeform, One Shot, Original Character(s), Original Poems, Poems, Poet!Harry, Poetry, SO MUCH FLUFF, School, Sexy Time, Tears, Zayn Malik - Freeform, b - Freeform, butt fuck, cafe larry, cafe worker!louis, cheesy larry, harry - Freeform, harry says daddy, larry - Freeform, larry au, larry one shot, larry smut, larry stylinson - Freeform, larry stylinson au, larry stylinson one shot, larry stylinson smut, louis - Freeform, louis and harry make love, louis and harry one shot, louis in fond with harry, niall - Freeform, romamce, sorry - Freeform, yes - Freeform, zayn, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2512484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModestlyRogue/pseuds/ModestlyRogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't take him eight years to realize he's in love, he knew it from the first time he smiled at him.</p><p>He just couldn't say until then. </p><p>or a fic in which Harry and Louis both enjoy poetry.</p><p>********* updated and re-written June 24, 2016. So yes, new plot. *****************</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faced with a Dodo's Conundrum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disclosedthoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disclosedthoughts/gifts).



> Disclaimer:  
> Title inspiration by Australia by The Shins  
> poems are original and yes, the story was re-written and updated June 24, 2016. New plot you guys (: ! .  
> hope you like it (:

"Good morning, Class.” the math teacher spoke, Louis’ gaze turning to face an unknown boy who stood next to the "not-so-hot" teacher and honestly, the tall lanky kid was fairly alike in appearance to Mr. Darwin. But of course, the curly haired boy had green eyes and not black ones that matched the color of Mr. Darwin's soul. He was attractive and was rocking out a jumper and skinnies. Louis heard a group of girls in the front row whisper and giggle. He knew they were laughing about the new boy, which made him question reality because really, how could they ever laugh at something, someone, so beautiful?

"This is your new classmate," Mr. Darwrin paused, "Please introduce yourself." He bluntly instructed the nervous being standing in the center of the room, his face possessing a very unsettled emotion.

"Hi, I'm Harry," he breathed, the class acting like if he wasn’t speaking but he noticed that not everyone was being rude. His eyes landed on a blue-eyed beauty. He was angelic, and for Harry to think that so soon made him quiver. Harry smiled, his posture becoming more formal and confident. "Harry Styles." The blue-eyed beauty admired the sun-kissed boys smile, the way it shifted more to the left rather than being centered. The teacher hummed at him, his hand mimicking a wave-off for him to go sit down. So he proceeds. He came to a seat only about two spots from the back and one away from the trash bin, the kids next to the seat throwing footballs from one to another, minding their own business. Harry placed his stuff on the desk, his hands coming up to mess with his hair before he sat down, but as soon as he bends his knees to sit, he swears that the drop to the seat felt like decades had passed by until the realization hit him that he was now sitting on the floor.

"Might want to target your seat better next time." Liam laughed out. Liam. He is the life of the party. Well, he likes to think he is. Everyone praises him because he has money and his sister __just so happens__ to be dating a rock star that __happens__ to be the school's favorite singer __somehow__. Louis’ never even heard of the guy, actually, 89% of the school hasn't heard of that fools name, yet they praise Liam to the fullest.

That's where his cockiness comes from.

There's that and the publicity he gets when seen out with his sister.

Harry got up and passed his hands over his black washed-out jeans, cleaning off any access dirt his butt may be a hold of. He was grabbing the chair back from where Liam had pulled it from when he heard a faint voice speak, "You can sit next to me if you want."

Harry turned to find the same boy— the one who apart from having amazing oceanic eyes, has great feathery hair— talking to him, concern being written over his forehead. His jawline was defined, exposing anger of some sort. He was brought back to reality when he saw the nameless art piece in front of him blink.

"Really?” Harry asked in shock, making sure he heard right or that this wasn't a joke. Louis nodded and smiled, moving his chair down to give space to the mesmerizing green-eyed boy.

Once seated, Louis turned to stare at him. He studied his profile, taking in the sunshine that he radiated. Harry soon turned his gaze towards Louis’ direction and met his stare. Harry’s first instinct was to say his age.

“I’m 17.”

It was humiliating to him once the words escaped his lips. He realized it wasn’t a good way to start a conversation, so he mumbled out a sorry. A laugh and a hand on the table in front of him brought his gaze back up to meet the boy.

"I'm Louis. Louis Tomlinson. And I'm 18.” With that, Harry smiled and the dullest teacher ever to face the earth was now talking to the class.

Of course, Louis notices Harry staring at him from time to time, but he pretends that he doesn't see him. Mr. Darwin handed out a sheet of paper and expected the class to be as quiet as it can be, but how can they silence their thoughts when Mr. Darwin has only four senses and a quarter of his fifth sense, hearing.

"So, you need to work on it the whole class. And get learning. The lesson is self-explanatory so if you don't know it well, well you get an F." And with that, he left back to his ‘ _ _comfy chair’__ — with its old coffee stains and open wounded patches— that looked like it had been through all the horrors life has to offer. Louis was furiously working on trying to understand the lesson, but as always, it was a task he could never fulfill. To his defense, he needs to hear the lesson being taught, he can't just read it and understand it, and it’s always been a thing that gets him frustrated—words and numbers mixed together.

"Ugh, I hate math!” Louis groans out between his teeth, slamming the pencil down next to the blank paper and placed his hands over his face as he let out a sigh as a sign of surrender.

"I can help you?” He heard a husky voice offer. It was obvious who it was, but the fact that his voice sounded like that— low, husky and hot— was just overwhelming.

"Only if you want me to help you that is.” Harry added nervously. His eyes focused on the paper with a name loosely written on top of it spelling __'Lou Tommo'__. He smiled at the fact that an 18-year-old who looked so tough, yet was so soft, and had a beard and a mustache that only grows on gods, had such a childish side of him that craved to be exposed in some way, in this case, by using a nickname on his work.

He couldn't be real.

 It amazed him, so he smiled. Louis was so far gone in his own thoughts that he had forgotten to answer back to the concerned Harry next to him and in just a snap he nodded his head rapidly hoping he would be watching him already, but as he looked up to meet his eyes again, all he saw was a view of the back of his head.

"I would like to get help, yeah. That sounds about right." Louis mumbled out. He grabbed onto his own hands like they were in need of holding, but all he had were nerves running up and down his body at the fact that he actually admitted he needed help. But he also realized that he desperately wanted to spend time with this guy.

It was five minutes before the bell for dismissal rang and Harry was sweating like a hooker in church. He didn't know how to approach a conversation involving him asking, __"Can I have your address?"__ without sounding like a straight up creep, which made the whole __‘tutoring an 18-year-old’__ thing a little bit crucial. So when Louis was the one who talked to him first, he felt the tension working onto his chest leave in just a nanosecond. 

"So sir smarty pants, where are we going?" Louis asked, his hands moving rapidly to pack everything visible on his desk into his backpack as Harry stared at the boy’s face.

His eyelashes, __“oh, they are beautiful.”__ Harry thought.

"Yeah yeah, um, where do you think you can focus more at? Any place is fine for me to be honest.” and his voice became soft, regretting saying what he had just let out. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he shot his self mentally and dug his own grave with a tombstone saying, __"RIP he couldn't have a normal conversation without sounding needy__." Harry remembered he was holding a conversation with Louis when he saw a tattooed arm reaching out with a piece of paper in between his finger.

"—So just pop up when you have the time. I'm not doing anything special this whole week so any day is good I guess. My sisters are a mess though, but they leave at 3:30, so any time from then on is good." Louis explained, his eyes focused on Harry’s wide eyes, the green in them fading out to a soft coffee brown. His eyes yelled out desperation with every blink as he debated whether to stare at Louis’ eyes or his lips. He couldn't decide, so it made it even harder for him to actually stay focused on just one feature with the whole, _ _"I’m going to get caught__." thought, but he couldn't help it. Louis’ stare was making him nervous and he wanted to dive right into his lips.

__‘Is it strange to have these thoughts with a person you just met?’_ _

Probably, but Harry instantly saw something in him. He didn't know what it was, but he was sure going to tutor this guy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Get on it little one!" Louis yelled at his sister Elle as he ran to the door. He was about to open the door when he mentally asked his self, __"Who the fuck goes to someone’s house at such time?”__ It was just a little past four of the afternoon, and Niall—his best bud since they both shot out of the slide tubes in preschool— is probably off to sleep—before work of course— but other than him, no one really goes over his house, but then he remembered. He furiously blinked as his hands came up to his hair to stroke it back, his hair parting in the middle, leaving a trail to the back. He tugged down on his shirt, licked his lips, and opened the door. He found a boy seating on the stairs outside facing towards the street, his head pressed against his hands, a bag pressed up against his right thigh like if it were to be anywhere farther from his body, the bag would magically disappear.

"So I see you came at the fall of dusk." Louis laughed out, his arm holding his balance as he leaned against the doorframe. The lanky figure stood up furiously, cleaning his jeans briefly before greeting his self.

"Hello. Yeah, um, sorry about the time, I was sort of trying to finish my homework and I don't know, I have the weekend, but I also have activities and I realized it was nearly eight o’clock and—" he took in a needed breath and smiled, "I'm sorry I'm here late." He looked at Louis with sorry written in his eyes and Louis was once again stuck in his thoughts, __“What a handsome idiot.”__

"If you're busy I could just—"

"No no, stay. I really do need the help. Just kind of off. Come in, we don't bite." Louis offered, his eyes shining and exposing nothing but fond as Harry sucked his bottom lip in-between his teeth and smiled as he walked in. Harry’s eyes wandered around the flat, baby pictures here and there, and he spotted a group of twins sitting down in the living room yelling, __"It’s mine! It's mine!"__ frantically as they fought over a control. Harry was then in front of a collection of trophies and as he schemed over them— all reading, __"Louis William Tomlinson"__ — he smiled.

 "William." He smirked.

He had a fish named William.

"Ah, so you found my wall of fame." Louis spoke, his voice soft, but loud enough for Harry to hear him in the chaotic household. It was soothing, his voice. Harry didn't respond, his eyes reading through all the trophies descriptions.

First Place Footie Header

First Place Poetry Slam Nov.18

Fourth Place Little Mrs. England

Harry chuckled, his hands forming fists to hide in a laugh trying to escape that could be loud enough to cover the whole house.

"Good old Little Mrs. England. Didn't really deserve fourth place, was more of a first place kind of man if it wasn't for Ashley Cowellden and her whore of a mom. But life goes on and I'm still pretty." With that, Harry turned around to find Louis strolling away. Hands in the back, head held high.

__“What an idiot. What a lovely idiot.”_ _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, do I just put all the books on the floor or the desk or…?" Harry asked, his question becoming very unusual for him to ask, but Louis shrugs, giving him a silent answer in the empty room surrounding them.

"Just lay it out on the bed."

            The thing is, Louis just recently moved to this house, this state, and it's all new to him— his friends, his homework routine, his bell schedule, especially the neighborhood. His room isn't that entertaining, sure, but once he gets the time to actually surround his self with things he feels will be a part of him in no time, he will sure make this place comfy, like home.

 Harry eyed the nude walls and the bed which had no covers and no blankets, just a pillow rammed between the mattress and the wall. The bed itself is very low, nearly touching the edge of the window it collides with. The moonlight was starting to make its way into the room, giving Harry a sense of comfort. Harry is kneeling down reaching in and out of his bag, spreading out books and pencils and paper all over the bed covering nearly half of the mattress up, leaving enough space for both him and Louis. Once finished, he looked over at Louis who's already staring at him from the chair near his desk, the empty desk that held a small amount of old Spiderman stickers.

"Ready." Harry sighed.

            Louis walked towards the bed, kneeing Harry to move over for him to fit on his twin size bed.

"Okay," Harry spoke, his hands placed on his tights, his eyes shifted to look at Louis with a stern look that screamed, __“This is serious.”__

            "What don't you understand?"

"Everything." Louis sighed out,  lolling his eyes to the back of his head as he brought up a hand to scratch the back of his neck, his nerves flaring all over his small body. Harry nodded, a smile of confusion on how to start on the material marking a territory on his lips.

"Well, why don't I just show you some problems and you can dictate whether you remember seeing this or not. I'll explain it if you don't understand, you just have to tell me what you don’t know so I’ll tell you how it goes. How about that, yeah?" Harry explained, his eyes focused on the papery mess he's created upon the boy’s bed. A steady breath breaks his contact with the blank pages before him and stares at the incredibly tiny human in front of him.

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah I like that. But I do know everything from absolute value and lines and all that. I know that so basically just from there on __if__ that's __clear__." He smiled, his voice giving out in the last words, but Harry still heard him, enough to look back down to the book he took hold of in his hands and started scheming through to chapter 3, exactly where Louis stopped understanding math and its logic.

"So, how do you think you'll learn best?" Harry asked, his sight falling on Louis,"I have index cards, I can read it and you take notes of important stuff, you can read it and ask questions, highlighting also, but I would rather write what you would normally highlight because you can't write on the book so..." he trailed off, his hands pressing hard on his own thighs. Louis’ face held a very serious look, but he knew what would work best

"Trivia's!" Louis squealed, his excitement exposing through his facial expression. Harry smiled, his hands digging into his bag and pulled out a pile of index cards as Louis ran over to his desk to grab a marker and dropped back down onto his bed.

"Okay, so I think it's best if we write the right answer on the back and you work on it in the front. Yeah?" Louis shook his head, agreeing with the idea. They spent 30 minutes working on the index cards. Louis would copy down questions and pass it down to Harry who worked on it to come up with the answer. It was genius.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

It took two hours for Louis to understand half of the material, so Harry made it clear that the schedule for tutoring would work in a specific way.

"I can come every Monday and Wednesday after school with you. I have to go to poetry slams on Friday nights, so I guess I can work on the material with you from seven ‘til ten. Is that fine?" Harry explained, his eyes landing on Louis’ for an answer.

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds great. I'll see you then?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, his eyes shining as the room light hit his eyes, Louis’ smile marking a temporary stamp on Harry’s mind which said, __"I'm adorable and you know it."__

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry looked beautiful under the moonlight. His face glowing as the stars gleamed above him, the stars that glowed brighter than ever as Harry made his presence amongst them, and the thought of this made Louis admire the beauty that was Harry even more. When he saw Harry start making his way home, his chest became achingly weak, his heartbeat finally easing down from the furious rate it was going at since he saw Harry outside his porch about three hours ago.

            He felt empty.

            He felt incomplete.

 Something was wrong.

            He quickly opened the window and yelled, “Good Luck tonight on your performance. The whole, poetry slam thing. It's tonight, right? Friday? "

Harry turned around to find Louis’ arms out of the window, his chest nearly fully out, arching his back low enough for Harry to hear his voice.

"Yeah yeah, thank you. You're welcomed to go watch. Have a listen for yourself on my work." Harry invited, his hands cramping up at the thought of Louis showing up as he let out his thoughts, his eyes focused on him and only him as he spoke to several people, which would be lovely, but terrifying.

"I'd love to, but I got work in about 30 minutes. Probably some other time, maybe at a school talent show or something?" Louis spoke with a very sorry tone. Of course he wanted to go, but he needed to work or his boss would give him so much shit for missing out. Wouldn't be the first time he's done it and he doesn't want to mess up as much as he already has.

Harry nodded and tossed his foot back to make a turn as he yelled, "Goodnight, Louis." Louis smiled, his chest rising off of the windows edge, making his way inside.

"Goodnight, Harry."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cleaning the tables, washing the coffee cups, and hearing the poetry. That’s what Louis is doing for the third month in a row. He’s not glad about it, but he does it for the money. He’s got about five months to save up for college and it’s cost him half his life to save up enough. He hasn’t been out lately and Niall always happens to have the juiciest stories on the block. It’s always around six of the afternoon when Niall goes bargaining into Le’Carlos Café ready to give Louis a mouthful of news, but on Fridays it was always exactly at 10:30 of the night.

      "Zayn, Captain of the Art Club and homecoming king of 2014 is now dating Drina Hartebern, the sophomore. A sophomore! He’s a senior and he wants to start out his appearance as king by dating a sophomore? That’s a joke, right?"

Niall complained as Louis lazily washed table #3, which Louis started calling __‘the honey table’__. Louis didn’t really like the whole, __"who’s on the top of the school"__ kind of gossip nor did he enjoy hearing gossip from Niall, the " _ _bottom of the social group"__ buddy he had. They usually got the latest news at the last minute and Louis was used to it, but ever since Niall started dating Liam, it’s been nothing but gossip on the go and it was always the same.

 __ __"Jennifer was caught cheating on Diego with Daniel for the third time!”_ _

__“Daniel was caught helping a teacher in need! Cougar Much?”_ _

__“The new history teacher is the new Ezra Fitz in St.Celist! He’s in class 206 and his door is always open!"_ _

Louis still remembers the day he received the news about the new hot teacher. He spent a whole 2 weeks finding excuses to get thrown out of the class just to go next door to stare at his ass.

 “Nice sight, pretty face, firm butt,” Louis always thought.

      "But wasn’t David dating Amy like, two days ago?" Louis asked as he wiped the left over crumbs from the last customers crumb cake.

"Yeah, but then there was a rumor going around that she was cheating on him with Jose and so they just sort of had a fallout. Now she's with neither Jose or David. It’s hilarious." Niall said as he sat on the table Louis was finishing.

"Didn’t he know she was a slut already any–, Hey, get the fuck off the table! People eat there, you uncultured swine!" Louis yelled as he swatted Niall with his towel, trying to get him to scoot off until he finally did.

"Boys and Girls, tonight we are welcoming a new poet, one who just came from the outskirts of town. He's amazing, and you will all love him. His name says it all. Ladies and Gentlemen, Harold McFlinn!" The crowd snapped their fingers away, some grandparents smiling through the fact that they can't snap as well anymore. Louis stopped wiping breadcrumbs off of the tables and took his usual seat in the front of the stage where the poets did their thing– Niall by his side, as always. It was nice— the whole poetry and coffee thing that happened every day, it was like a mini-date with Niall— Louis thought.

It was a revolving cycle that always chased him. Poetry was his passion, but he was terrible at writing it, so he made the poetry slams his in a way, he listened as if they were his words being read by someone else, a stranger.

Once the clock struck 11:30 o’clock, Niall and Louis were already in their seats, hyped up for what their favorite act was going to present. Louis’ favorite is of course— attractive lad, 6’1— Steve Hernan. His eyes were almost grey. A nice, soft grey. Hair wise, all Louis knew was that it was brown. Steve has a habit of wearing beanies and yes, Louis dreams of the day his beanie will somehow come off, hopefully by a massive windstorm that'll blow in through the door and swipe it away into the unknown. He just really wants to see his hair. But effectively, he's made a promise to his self to go to work when needed and listen to Steve's work.

The new act, Harold, started off odd. Different from others, but Niall’s facial expression stayed in a state of amusement as the cafés light began to dim, a single light appearing upon the stage—a blue light. What really set the calm mood and gave that extra unf, was the cafés special, the Pumpkin Le'Frea— which yes, Louis did name it and it's probably not even French, but boy was it delicious— and the aroma made things much better. Louis focused on the stage with a very concentrated stare. His features were soft, not as soft as usual, which was very rare. He was relaxed, but also intrigued to a point where he was frustrated.

A sudden sound of wind sneaked out from the speakers on stage, filling the café with what felt like lonesome. It amazes him how much time Bobther— Bob the Manager, as he preferred— had spent working on all the effects for the welcoming of a new poet. It was nice. He shifted in his seat and the sound got harder, faster, and he wondered how it was possible to imagine such thing, but his thoughts came to complete stop once he heard the first words of poetry spoken by the new poet.

"This piece is called, The Darkest Soul." The sounds stopped, the lights went off and all that filled up the café was darkness.

Hilarious.

"Subtle melodies float away from deepest hearts.

Hearts of joy and dismay.

How can this world be so cold?

So cold, yet full with such beauty and grace.

The hidden greed in people's eyes,

It always seeks to hurt.

Hurt those who are pure,

To make them one and the same.

To make both wither and reach their demise.

Run while you can.

No one can escape their gaze,

A simple act of pain.

The pain you cause another,

Fills your soul with a cruel joy.

Living a life of stitched on smiles,

Pulling at your growing frown,

It masks the pain only you will know.

Waiting in the blackness.

The never-ending void,

I wonder where my glow has gone,

Where the light has faded to."

The lights come back on, this time they’re a darker shade of blue. The people continued to stay quiet, the overwhelming thought of what just happened taking over the place.

"Why can't we see him?" Niall whispered low enough for only Louis to hear, but Louis was staring at the stage with a look that exposed a sanguine vibe.

 

"Bloody hell. He's fucking great." Louis muttered in disbelief, his eyes blinking furiously, impatiently, waiting for the lights to turn on.

"You're right, Lou, he's—"

"That's fucking Harry Styles." Louis laughed out, his eyes starting to burn.

"Fucking hell, I know this kid!" He yelled, the darkness hugging him as he stood up. The lights turned on immediately and with one blink of the eye, he saw the one and only standing before him. He looked brilliant. His eyes were laughing, his body radiated light— the white light the café had to offer was darker in comparison— his complexion was light, like the smooth light the sun gives. He didn't notice, but Harry was looking at him, out of everyone in the place, over the clapping and chants of congrats and flattering yells, smiling and beaming brighter than a thousand suns.

What Harry saw was immense.

Louis was standing up with his hand hovering his mouth, the other placed right above the crook of his hip. His eyes were gleaming and the more he stared, Harry swore he saw the ocean trapped within them. It amazed him how beautiful, better yet, how god like he looked in the dull setting. His face exposed a very surreal expression, which actually flattered him.

Then it hit him.

This boy __is__ poetry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

Saturdays are his favorites. He gets to wake up and smell the coffee his mum has been brewing up for him and hear his sister playing the guitar at the beginning of the day, preparing herself for boot camp at Lake Sureak. But this morning was different. He didn't hear the loud clang of the spatulas and the pans or the blender going off and he missed out on the sound of his sister confusing her G’s with her C’s in “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”. What surprised him the most, was that he didn't even get the usual, “Wake Up, Sailor!” call from this app he had gotten. He got up and walked towards the stairs and looked down, his neck hurting at the action, but the curiosity of such quietness had him wishing he was in an open field. It's awfully silent for him and it was terrifying.

One step down, he heard a ruffling of plastic.

His heart stopped.

The second step down, he heard whispers.

 His breath hitched.

The third step down, he heard something hit the tile floor.

 He ran down the stairs with hardly any breath at all left in his lungs, but once he touched the painfully cold floor, his heart nearly gave out.

"Happy birthday!"

His eyes widened, his mouth gapped wide with shock.

 He forgot it was his birthday.

 His trembling hands came up to wipe the horrendously curly mess he likes to call hair out of his eyes, his lips becoming very plum in the blood rush happening throughout his not-so-awaken body.

"Thank you." Harry whispered, his hand lying on his chest, right where his heart is. His mum—holding the 12 by 10 cake on one hand— walked up to him and kissed his forehead, which he had to lower down because he's basically as tall as a giraffe.

"My baby. Look at you. 25 years old and still crying for seeing your old mum carry a shit cake my untalented-self made." She smiled, her eyes filling up with tears of disbelief that her baby was growing up so fast. Harry nodded, his dimples exposing as he kissed his mums forehead and took possession of the cake.

"You're not that old yet." He cleared up. He turned on his heel and smiled as a bright white light hit his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

It was 30 minutes ‘til 4:00 am and Louis was exhausted. He hasn’t really done much, but sleep and eat loads of frozen pizza from last night. His mum and sisters were off on a dinner-party his mum was invited to and Louis decided to stay home thinking he'd enjoy having the house all to his self, but boy was he wrong.

"How can you take Matthew out, but keep Mirjana?" Louis yelled at the T.V, mad at the fact that Americas Next Top Model is doing horrid mistakes. He was about to fish for his next slice of pizza until he heard his phone chime.

" _ _From: Big Guy__

__Hey Louis_ _

__Scott is away for the day and Mariable had to go to a meeting and you're the only staff member I could get a hold of at the moment and I was wondering if you could please do a delivery for me? I'll give you an extra 50 on your next paycheck?"_ _

Louis huffed. He didn't want to do anything. Not today. He can barely move due to the fact his stomach is fully loaded off of pizza and tasteless soda, but hell, he needed more money so he decided to negotiate.

__"To: Big Guy_ _

__

__100 and I'll do it. I'm not cheap. I'm also a sight for the receiver. ;) Xx "_ _

His phone rang almost immediately.

__"From: Big Guy_ _

__

__Okay, come by and pick up order #12836 and take it over to the address on it. Thank you."_ _

 

And with that, Louis hustled his way off the couch and marched to his car with the last slice of pizza on his hand.

 _ _“No regrets,”__ he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

The doorbell rang and no one answered for the third time in a row. Louis was getting frustrated and his hand was freakishly tired and numb of holding such a heavy package on his hand.

"Boy I ‘oughta." he huffed and turned on his heel to make his way back to his car, but then he heard the door open behind him.

"Sorry, I was kind of busy."

            He shut his eyes and formed a thin line with his lips and regretted all of his life decisions that day. He sighed and plastered on a smile on his face as he turned around to hand over the order and quickly get back home and yell.

"Oi, mate. You look a’mess."

"Well, what a way to welcome the guy in charge of this heavy delivery. Would be a shame if it got ruined, wouldn't it?" Louis taunted.

"Well, how much will it be, Sir Tomlinson?" Louis’ heart dropped to his butthole, his smile becoming untamable and he hated his self so much for it.

"That'll be 30 pounds, Sir Styles." He imitated Harry’s profound way of communicating with him. This was odd for them both. Harry amazed himself on how well he found comfort with Louis, while Louis felt nothing but pure fond towards the lanky boy who he has known for over seven years now. It was astonishing— how well they clicked. Harry took out his wallet and Louis wandered his eyes over Harry’s shoulder into the house and noticed a gigantic happy birthday sign hanging off of the ceiling and he got an idea almost immediately.

"Hey there, Styles." Louis spoke, an eyebrow popping up, his smile becoming devilish. Harry looked at him with a very concerned look, his eyes wide and his cheeks ruby red, well, almost.

"Hold this for a sec?" Louis handed him the package and Harry looked at Louis with a questioning look, but Louis couldn't help but smile.

"Since today is your birthday and last night was bloody amazing with your poetry and all, I find it quite fair to say that this package is on me. It's a gift from me to you. Now get at it and go have fun on your..." Louis trailed off, waiting for Harry to buzz in with the age— not that he didn’t know his age or anything, he’s been cautious of his age since his 19th.

And then there was a pause.

 Not an awkward pause, but a silent one until Harry yelled, "Oh! 25! I'm—” he cleared his throat, “25 today." He smiled and looked straight at the floor, almost unsure if Louis was laughing at him or laughing at his adorableness. But the first choice was most reasonable for him.

"Ah, yes. So go on in, enjoy your day." Louis nodded and waved him off as he turned to leave when he felt a hand take hold of his wrist, pulling him around.

"Well you can't just hand me a free package and then scurry off now can you?" Harry smiled, his eyebrows popping up as his dimples marked their place on his cheeks. Louis smiled at him thinking, __“HHow can he be so beautiful without trying?”__

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

Louis was seating down in Harry’s room. He was told to wait for him as he went to greet the new guest making their way in, which was just family, but it was a hell of a lot of people. It was until he heard the song “Archie, Marry Me” by Alvvays that he stood up to explore Harry’s room. It was what he expected it to be like, in a way.

The walls were painted in a beige color, some white spots still spotted on it, dark brown lines curved throughout. It was like a map outline, just without all the names and drawings of trees and the legend. He came across a bookshelf and spotted a few books that sounded quite familiar to him.

“So he too is a book worm.”

Louis bit the inside of his cheek and walked up to a shelf full of photo albums, paper, and journals, and a row of three cameras with tape on the front of the wooden slot. They read vacation, party, and never forget.

Louis stared at the last one and admired it. It was lovely. Out of all the others it was the one that looked less used, which yeah, it made Louis feel sad, because why would __Vacation__ and __Party__ be commonly used while __Never Forget__ was left dusty and far behind the shelf? It was small. A Nikon Coolpix L820. He noticed that the other two were quite different, very different— Polaroid cameras.

"I'm so sorry. It took me ages to get out of my—" Harry barged in and stopped in his tracks to find Louis scheming around his room. He smiled and made his way to his bed as he slammed the door shut causing the framed poster of Kevin Parker to tremble in front of Louis.

"You have a nice room. It's very—" Louis turned to look at Harry with his eyebrows frowned, trying to find a word to describe his room, but Harry won him to it.

"Me." Harry smiled, "It's very me." And well, yeah. It was very Harry and Louis went back to day one, back to that bore of a class where Harry stood with his freshly cut hair, curls hugging his ears so tightly.

He’s changed. One could tell just by the way his hair nearly touched his shoulders, his arms barely fitting in his long sleeved shirt, which he gave him props for, good muscles he had grown.  

Harry’s eyes widening at the nod Louis gave him in disbelief, __“I love this man.”__  He thought.

He always thought.

He could never tell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

Maybe it was the moment of the event, or probably the way it felt so familiar—so normal— that made Louis want it even more. It made him want Harry even more and Harry was having the same thinking progress of it all. It was only minutes into the very comfortable stare Louis had gained onto Harry that made this moment happen.

            A sudden, “Your lips are intriguing,” escaping Harry’s lips as he got up to grab Louis by his very tiny and warm waist, feeling his hip bone over the layer of clothing he had on.

__Damn skinnies and jean jacket as thick as horse hair._ _

It was also because of a high sigh escaping Louis’ lips as a sign of surprise at the sudden decrease in space between them two. “Almost like if they hide my name beneath them as a seal for mine to be on yours,” and a soft hand appearing onto Louis’ soft face, the face Harry adores so much as it glows like a million stars from the soft light hitting on him from the loosely opened curtain— transparent enough to see who drives what car—which he plans to change.

            “Only my lips could comfort them. It’s tempting to kiss you,” a soft and warm heap of Harry’s breathing ghosting over Louis’ lips, “And you’re doing a very good job in not showing that you want to kiss me just as much as I want to kiss you.”

At this point, Louis could do absolutely nothing to stop the moment— not that he wanted to anyways.

Harry had finally touched Louis’ lips, the very lips he has been having dreams about kissing for years and yes, it’s been eight years —and okay, sure, he’s seen Louis look at him like if he was the center of his world and he lives off of him— but this is the moment that mattered to him and Louis— well Louis has been dreaming of this moment too but never had he imagined it to be like this.

Harry traced Louis’ lips with his tongue causing Louis to shiver at the warmth he brought on with the lick. Louis couldn’t really believe that he had to be on his toes stretching his neck a million miles up to actually kiss Harry perfectly without grasping his lips, the lips he achingly needs on his right now, but he didn’t mind one bit as he felt Harry’s warm hand caress his cheek and tug him in closer towards his long body. Harry turned them around, but he tripped on god knows what and ended up falling on the bed with Louis held very tight between his strong arm and his own body falling on top of Louis’ small figure, but it was just what he wanted.

“What a lovely trip to a great destination.” Harry laughed as Louis bit his neck after his smart comment causing Harry to weaken his hold on Louis and clasp down on Louis’ body. He felt the warmth radiate from Louis’ clothed onto his hands which were — not that he was complaining— sandwiched between both their bodies.

“I want you, Louis.” Harry whispered into Louis’ ear, causing him to stay frozen under his body.

Louis did, too. Oh boy, did Louis want Harry or what? He liked the guy. He really liked this guy. The way his eyes sparkle when he smiles, the way his lips move to the right when he smiles, don’t even get him started on his loud obnoxious laugh.

But to him, this wasn’t __like,__ no.

It’s __love.__

Harry’s tongue brought Louis out of his thoughts and he placed his small warm hands over Harry’s back, bringing his body closer down to his own, his head rising to whisper, “And I want you, Harry.”

Harry stopped his tongue movement once he heard Louis’ words, his eyes finding their way to Louis’, those sky-blue eyes that could light up the whole world if they were to just open up at this very moment— which is what Harry wanted him to do, not hide them. He wanted to see the wanting, the need, the assurance that he wanted him as well, but all Louis did was nod at Harry’s soft pronunciation of his name.

Harry wanted this boy, he wanted all of him, and he got permission to do all he could to him. He stopped and looked at Louis, his hands caressing his soft, almost crimson cheeks, causing Louis to open his eyes and look at Harry with a very soft expression, pleading for him to touch him places he’s never been touched before, not by his hands— his massive, warm, and rough hands.

“I’m not going to have sex with you,” Harry said in a very mono-toned voice, his eyes gluing onto Louis’.

Louis lifted his body up with his elbows, his eyes fixed on Harry’s face, the radiance in them becoming quite dull as he tried to figure out what he did wrong, trying to figure out what caused him to back away.

“Harry, I want you to—“

“I’m going to make love to you.” Harry sighed out, his eyes watering up at the sight of Louis’ fragile expression. He looked taken back and that’s the look Harry loves to see on his face.

Louis immediately threw his body onto Harry’s, making him fall back to the opposite side of the bed, and yeah sure, he hit his head a bit and there was probably going to be a blood stain, but that could always be taken care of some other time.

His teeth made contact with Harry’s neck, his hands pulling on his hair trying to find more nude skin to kiss, the scent of his cologne sneaking its way into his nose. Harry’s light moans caused Louis to shift his neck opposite of where he was nibbling on and when Harry’s hand let go of his arms and traced down to his bulge, his eyes rolled back at the surprise of such size, such eager— and he loved it. His hips swayed back and forth, moving perfectly with the song playing downstairs—which happened to be Louis’ third year in high school __“__ I Can Make You Feel Young Again” by Copeland. Sure his thrusts are a bit off, but he can’t help the fact that this is so much for him.

Harry took his shirt off when Louis pulled away to take off his jeans, and Harry wasn’t as surprised to find out that Louis wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Someone was sure things were going to go right.” Harry teased him, his eyes landing on a spot Louis’ hands were covering right beside his own hip— right of his belly button.

He walked closely towards to Louis and placed his hand over his, he looked at him and gently whispered, “Let me see.” And with that, Louis removed his hand to reveal three markes on his body— not cuts, but veins.

            Three veins— very different sizes— which seemed to have the most thinnest layer of skin over them, a bit of red showing up almost preparing for it to be seeping through them— not blood, just obvious lack of skin—and all Harry did was lay him down and kiss the marks. Louis didn’t understand why he would, they were horrible in his mind, but he liked that he didn’t say anything. But of course, Harry thought they were beautiful.

Louis didn’t really think anything of it. The whole scenario was so different from what he wanted it to go like.

It was even better.

He realized what Harry was doing.

His hands on his thighs—

Rubbing.

His lips on his hips—

 Sucking.

            His eyes glued onto his—

            It was overwhelmingly beautiful.

The way he looked was screaming that he was so eager to please him, which was everything Louis wanted to experience— as of now that is. He wanted to explore him just as much as Harry has already with his own body. Louis’ hands came down to take a hold of Harry’s face, his thumbs caressing his cheeks— moving the strands of hair he had on his face away from his eyes— trying to expose the beauty he is. He leaned in to kiss his lips, he wanted to taste him, take in all he was, all he is, and all he’ll ever be if they stay like this. Louis was thinking about how all it took was one call, one fucking butt-dialed call, to get him to the place he always wanted to be at since the day he saw him standing in front of that class looking helpless and small, so fucking small and look at him now.

 He’s the biggest in the room.

All he could see and all he cared about.

He didn’t think of his next move, which surprised him at the way he propped him down and started to kiss his way down to Harry’s hips, his lips coming to a gentle stop around his hip bone, his left hand stretching out to caress all of Harry’s body. It was massively wonderful. Harry’s neck stretched until he felt his muscles pull at him to stop, his want of more contact with Louis’ lips giving him enough strength to help deal with the pain, but he felt a sharp pain under his chin as soon as Louis’ mouth started getting closer to his cock— which to be fair, he had coming in the way he was speaking to him.

Louis’ thought of how pathetic he might have looked like staying quite as Harry showered him with poetic words, making him squirm and hope for more magical phrases this god of a guy could come up with to seduce the fuck out of him.

Harry’s hips buckled up as Louis’ small hand finally grabbed his cock, bringing the tip close to his mouth, but not even a touch was felt.

“Wh— why did you stop?” Harry panted out, his eyes shifting to look at what Louis was up to and found two of his fingers in his mouth, his eyes drilling on Harry’s and oh fuck, what a sight.

Louis decided not to say one word, not even a noise— not until Harry was begging.

One by one his fingers entered Harry, his lips opening up to take him in and it was all simultaneous, enough for it to cause Harry to let out a loud moan.

Louis’ fingers were pounding into him in a very steady paste, his mouth bobbing back and forth with a rhythm that Harry had picked up almost immediately, his hips swaying in a motion he never knew they could sway in. Louis was pleased with his self as he saw that Harry brought up a hand to his own head to tug at his hair at the overwhelming sensation, bringing the other hand onto Louis’ hair, pulling it as a way of telling him to take in his cock even deeper.  Louis gagged, but not enough to the point where he had to stop, but to the point where Louis felt the need of taking him even more.

So he did.

But things took a drastic turn once Harry had let go of his hair and crashed his lips with Louis’.

Now, Harry isn’t one to take such possession, but it had to be done if he was going to keep his word. He kissed Louis’ neck, he kissed his forehead, he kissed his arms, his chest, his hips, his thighs—he kissed every visible art of his body and he ended with kissing his lips. His hand made its way down to his cock, taking hold of it and stroking it at a steady paste, causing Louis to pop his eyes wide open at the feel of his huge, rough hands. Harry brought a finger up to Louis’ mouth and traced his lips with it until he took it into his mouth and sucked on it as gestured to do and Harry’s cock twitched at the feel of his tongue-work on his finger, the thought of how good it felt while Louis was doing that to him washing over his thoughts of what he was going to do to him until Louis let out a muffled moan and jerked his hips up, pressing his cock onto Harry’s hips. __‘So close’__ , Louis thought as he saw that he missed by a few inches to touch Harry’s cock with his own. But the thought of missing the feeling was gone as soon as he felt Harry’s long finger enter him, his lips taking possession of his cock, his tongue flicking the head making Louis’ back arch, causing his cock to go in deeper into Harry’s throat—which wow, Louis didn’t know he needed that.

Harry’s bobs became faster, he needed Louis; he wanted him to squirm under him, wanted to hear him beg for more. He inserted two more fingers into Louis sending him to another world, his panting becoming rapid, and his thrusts getting harder.

Louis panted, his mumbles of little-nothings escaping his lips, stating he was close to cumming, but all Harry did was tease.

“You want me to fuck you, Louis?” Louis dropped down his back onto the bed, his legs giving out.

“Want me to fuck that tight little asshole of yours?” Harry breathed out through his teeth causing Louis to grab the quilt under his now hot body, searching for steadiness.

“Cum for me, Louis. I bet you taste so fucking good.” And with two more thrusts of Harry’s fingers in him, and a kiss on Louis’ cock, he came into Harry’s mouth, his hands rubbing Harry’s arms —his sweaty, muscular arms.

“Harry, I want you in me.” Louis screeched, his face only inches away from Harry’s and yes, Harry wanted to be in him, too.

Harry hovered Louis’ body with his and Louis wrapped his arms around his neck bringing him down for a kiss and Louis smiled as he tasted his self on Harry’s lips. Harry laughed, which was odd, Louis thought— but he had to know why.

“Why are you laughing? What did I do?” He blushed, his cheeks becoming colder rather than hot, but the blush was as noticeable as a stop sign in an empty highway.

Harry shook his head as in saying, __‘let’s not do this now,’__ but Louis wasn’t taking no for an answer at a time like this.

“Tell me what’s so funny. Did I do something wrong?” Louis asked him again, and this time Harry looked at Louis and smiled as he dropped down onto his elbows, his body barely pressing up against Louis’ and, __‘okay wow, that was on purpose.’__

“Okay, okay.” He smiled, “I just thought of a poem.” and Louis— well Louis just rolled his eyes and laughed.

 “Are you kidding me? In the middle of making love to me, Harry. What poem could have possibly popped up in your head at a time like this?” Louis laughed out, his finger tracing Harry’s spine as he saw how Harry’s head dropped down in embarrassment.

“Are you sure you want to hear it?” Harry smiled, his eyes closed, not sure he wanted to see Louis’ reaction to the poem.

“Yes, serenade to me your brilliant poem.” And with that, Harry opened his eyes and whispered it to him.

“Roses are red

Violets are blue.

I love an angel,

And he loves me, too.”

Louis was shocked. Yes, it was hilarious, but god, Harry was just something else.

“How are you sure I love you back though?” Louis mocked.

“How are you sure the angel in my poem is you?” And with that Louis kissed Harry again and whispered a very low and sweet, “I love you.” 

Harry looked at Louis and whispered, “I love you, too.” But to him, it didn’t feel like enough to prove to him that he did really love him.

“Louis, I love you. I really, really do. Please don’t think I don’t, and I just say this to get at you or whatever. You’re just so perfect.” Harry spoke, his eyes focused on Louis’ gray eyes.

“Nobody’s perfect, Love.” Louis laughed out, but no— Louis __was__ perfect.

“Yes, you are. In my eyes you are. I know it's cheesy and all, but it’s true. No words, no poem, nothing, not anything can explain or show how amazingly perfect you are. You’re all I want. You’re everything.” Harry smiled at him, his eyes watering up and Louis’ smile faded away.

“Harry, you’re beautiful. You have the characteristics of a hero, the nobleness of a soldier, the height of a building, the eyes of a horizon and the smile of a flower.” He spoke, Harry smiled, his head tilting to the side trying to understand what exactly Louis was getting at.

“But how could that be beautiful all together?” he asked, going back to the time he saw a diary on Louis’ desk ages ago.

__‘Fuck, he’s reciting me a poem.’_ _

            “I think of it this way. A hero saves people, no other thing, really, but they care about everyone in their surroundings. You care about kids, parents, grandparents, the homeless, just about anyone. And you chose to care about me, too. That's beautiful.” Harry looked at Louis’ lips, the very lips he wants to kiss oh-so badly.

“Nobleness of a solider, well, they sacrifice for the people. Their own country. You sacrifice yourself for just about anyone, and you put your feelings second, because the mere thought about losing someone in this world drives you insane. You chose to put your life after mine. That's beautiful.” Louis smiled, his hands coming up to toy around with Harry’s curls, his luscious chocolate-caramel curls.

“Buildings are enormous, they're huge. They have windows that let you look from the outside, the inside view being just as thrilling as wondering what else haunts the hollow within. That look from the highest window down, the tallest rooftop ever to be found, that's where you are constantly, overlooking everyone and everything for you enjoy the life of others just as much as I enjoy looking up to you. You look down to me and smile, you've seen my life, and you chose to see it out of the millions of others there are surrounding me. That's beautiful.” Harry teared up, his eyes becoming the mere image of a water ball, a blink away from creating a new river.

“Horizons are illusions. They're not the end of anything, neither the continuation of something. They indicate that the start is nowhere near, but that the end is just as far. It hugs the world, the colors created by it being a masterpiece, no definite color to costume the sky, no definite sign to where it all lies. Haunting the water, it creeps its way from every landscape ever found, it smiles at the purest of eyes and the bitterest of scowls. So many things to cover, but your eyes chose to cover mine, as they are nothing but wonderful collages of the softest things of all. That's beautiful.” Louis choked up, the words were becoming too real for him, his emotions just minutes away from exploding in front of Harry— he was ready.

“Flowers come in so many ways. So many colors. So many shapes. Flowers are liked based on origin, location, and date. The most known are tulips, roses, and lilies— the trio being a group of wonderfulness. Roses are for love, they show friendship, they show care. Tulips are for trust, they're for shelter and to share. Lilies can lie on their side, the sunlight finding them in the snap of an eye for they are for assurance, romance, and light. There's an endless amount of flowers, some small, some tall. But you have them all, you hold them so greatly within two rosy patches of soft red roses, the view so pleasing, the petals texture hugging their mother, that being your skin. You have a garden, and you chose to share that with me out of all the bees that need your sweetness to live. That's beautiful.” And a tear escaped Harry’s mocha eyes, not being able to look at Louis who held his face between his two fragile hands.

“You share yourself with everyone, not caring what they think of your persona, your aura of greatness. You chose to share it all with me, out of everyone hugging your every curve, the ones who remember your every word. But you choose to remember my words, Harry, I love you. You're beautiful.” And Harry was blown away. Yes, his man had a way with words. His man knew how to take his heart out through his ass and manage to make it feel even safer on his sleeve than his own body.

“Look at you, making a grown man cry. When did you ha—.”

“Remember Gordans? Our first __not-so-real__ date with Niall? That day, you motivated me to write. I’ve always wanted to recite poetry to someone but no one was ever worth it, but that day —when I took your drunk baby-self home you said to me that I could do anything if I could stand being with you— you gave me the courage to try it. And I did it. Just now.” Louis smiled. Harry smiled.

“You’re beautiful.”

And with that, Louis kissed Harry on his lips and took him to a parallel universe.

Harry’s hands reached up to grab Louis’ face and bring him up to kiss his forehead, making his way down to his thighs and it would be a lie if Louis said he wasn't feeling very __over-the-edge__ already. Louis sat up, his hands running up and down Harry’s torso, his kisses only circling his shoulder. He made his way down to Harry’s cock and started kissing the head and Harry moaned the moment he felt the contact. Louis was sure he was doing things right just by the way Harry was tugging on his hair, bluntly begging for more, but he knew he couldn't have Harry cum now, not yet.

Louis took him all in and Harry’s hips kept thrusting, trying to get his cock to go deeper into Louis’ mouth, but it didn't bother Louis one bit as he was just as eager to taste him as Harry is to feel Louis’ mouth on his throbbing cock. Harry released his cock off of Louis’ mouth and threw Louis on his back onto the bed as he stroked his cock, making sure the eye contact they held became unbreakable. He looked at how vulnerable Louis looked, and Louis knew he looked like this, but it was Harry. How couldn't he be?

Their eyes were locked onto each other’s and Harry slid into Louis very slowly and saw how Louis’ face changed from __vulnerable__ to __fulfilled__ in a matter of seconds. Louis’ arms came up to hug Harry, his legs wrapping around Louis and Harry began to thrust, slowly and hard, and Louis had trouble understanding how this was possible, but he didn't care, because it was fucking amazing. Every thrust Harry did was another boost on Louis’ cum and well, he was close. Very fucking close to say the least.

The thrusts were now messy, and hard, and fast, and it was magical. Harry’s head was lolling back and forth and Louis’ legs were pushing his whole body up and down, trying to get as much of Harry as he could, and yes, it wasn't enough.

“I’m going to cum,” Louis whimpered as he held his eyes shut, his hand on Harry’s chest feeling the sweat make its way down to his stomach.

Harry grabbed a fistful of the quilt, the overwhelming sensation of Louis’ cock pounding against his bum making him wince. He could feel Louis’ kisses on his shoulder, his tongue marking its territory as he slightly bit onto his skin and that’s what took him to oblivion.

Harry’s room was soon full of muffled moans and Louis’ bum was dripping with Harry’s cum. Harry quickly kneeled down to take in any cum that Louis released off of his cock, his tongue making him twitch and thrust softly towards his mouth, but eventually he fell back to the bed and tugged on Harry’s hair to lay down next to him.

They stayed quiet for a few minutes, both taking in what just happened until Louis decided to end the silence.

“So, are you going to make a poem about this as well?”

“Maybe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

Sunday came creeping in and Louis’ alarm went off warning him it was seven o’clock.

It was morning.

He had to get his ass to work. He didn't really mind though, he was used to it, but the fact that it was a Sunday and he didn't even remember what happened last night, just quick memory rushes of him cutting a cake and chanting, _ _“We’re forever young!”__ over and over— it was so bizarre. It was all just a blur of laughs and lights, he didn't even drink which made the situation weirder. He shrugs off the thoughts of last night and took a cold shower, his head tilting down to let the ice-cold water travel its way down his back. His toes curled up at the touch, but that's the only way he could officially wake up and have any tiredness left in him wash away. That, and some warm tea, but he’ll make it once he’s at work, it’s just a serve away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

"That'll be 3 pounds. Have a nice day!" Louis cheered, the morning frenzy getting to him. It wasn't due to the fact that he was going to get promoted to be the manager today, of course not, but that's totally what it was.

"Niall, why do you always come bug me? What have I ever done to you that made you torture me like this?" Louis sighed, his elbows relaxed on a pole behind him as he leaned against a counter. Niall smiled, his eyes crinkling up as he let out that contagious laugh of his.

"I just love you so much that it pains me to be away from you for so long."

Louis blinked at him, __“bullshit,”__ he thought, Niall’s eyes focusing onto Louis’. Louis rolled his eyes and went to serve his self his third cup of tea that morning and it was only ten o’clock.

 

"I didn't see you all day yesterday. Went by your house and you didn't reply and when I called you it took me to voicemail. Bloody hell, Louis! Where in the world were you yesterday? I was worried sick!"

Louis laughed and his focus turned to the cafes door. He looked over at Niall to find him with a concerned look on his face and Louis’ features softened at the sight.

Niall was beautiful.

 Gorgeous really, even as he took a sip from his tea and sighed all tension off his shoulders.

"You see, I was invited to this party-celebration-surprise party thing. I was then struck with the __oh-so__ famous Harry Styles and the fact that it was his co-workers birthday and I was then invited to this after party at someone’s house and I couldn't deny. I had forgotten my phone in the car. Nothing personal Niall, it was just a busy night. Sort of." Niall nodded an understanding nod and turned around to look outside of the café. It was raining.

Yeah sure— since it’s still winter it rains on a regular basis— but today was nicer than most rainy days.

"So what happened between you and Harry last night then? Anything interesting you might want to inform me in?" Niall asked, placing his coffee on the table in front of him, admiring how different the rain looked.

"Well, I don't quite remember anything if I'm being honest. Besides the fact that I was indeed tired as balls and ate a lot of cake." He spoke, his eyes focused on trying to open the coffee maker to add more coffee grains into it.

"Mhm." Niall hummed. Silence surrounded them, Niall’s focus still stuck on the beautiful rainy day, as Louis got oddly frustrated with the coffee maker.

It’s been three weeks since him and Harry finally had sex, well, made love. He hasn’t gotten a call, a text, an e-mail, not even a letter and the annoyance of such was driving him off the edge.

Post psychotic, eventual lunatic.

"Fuckin' hell! I can't open this __stupid__ thing and I __just__ got it for this __shit__ place a couple days ago, I'm going to __sh__ —" Louis froze as his sight landed on a face he wouldn’t mind waking up to each morning for the rest of his life.

“Mhm, might want to get a refund on that then." Harry smiled, his wet hair held back with a hair band and his long body covered up in a coat. A wet, __wet__ coat. Louis sighed a serious look on his face, but a very tired expression to it as well.

"It cost me half my paycheck and if I go to try to get a refund, they'll only give me back less than half the money." He groaned. It was true, that's just how it works and it sure pushed his buttons. Harry let out an understanding sigh as he eyed the menu above Louis’ small figure.

 

"Well, what a small town this is. What are the odds we'd be in the same school, basically work in the same place, and have you bump into me loads of times in seven years?" Harry smiled, his eyes forming crinkles by them and a chuckle escaping his lips.

"Technically, you ran into me. All seven years. I was doing my duty when you happened to cross my path. You’re acting funny, love. After all, __it’s been seven years__. Mentioning that fact won’t change the years I’ve been stuck with you on my ass now, mate."

Niall looked at the smiling boys in front of him and laughed as he took a sip from his coffee. He gagged in a playful way and they both coughed away the stare they had gained on each other.

"Well, what would you like?" Louis asked, putting his work face on, which is just a very sad attempt at looking serious.

"I'll have a large Caramel Frappe with chocolate and hazelnut syrup." He assured with a nod and Louis grabbed a cup and wrote as told.

"Anything else?"

"How about a date?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the night of the last competitions at Marcos Brew in a small town near Cheshire and Harry was going to be reciting a poem that could possibly be the winning poem of the year. He has been participating in loads of contests to get to this point and he feels his heart pounding on his fingertips and he can hardly control his breathing.

"Calm down, love. You'll do great! You've practiced this poem plenty of times. You have it memorized. You've been doing this for ages! I'm right here, just a row away from where you'll be. Just look at me when needed. I'll be wording out the parts you need to know. You got this, Harry. I love you." Louis calmly adviced. Louis’ eyes focused directly on his man’s who nodded after every word he spoke, his hands coming up to each side of Louis’ face, caressing him.

"I love you, Louis."

"And I love you, Harry. Now go up there and show them that you deserve to win!" And with a kiss on the lips, a slap on the bum, and a wink for luck, Harry’s on his way backstage.

It was the national Poetry Slam Convention Harry has been freaking out about for months. Louis has been seeing him struggle, writing page after page, word after word, and nothing ever seems right to him while Louis thought every word written by him was absolutely amazing. Harry just didn't think it was enough, though. Louis knows that Harry has this in his pocket. He's amazing and Louis knows this, not just because he's his boyfriend, but also because he's just really fucking amazing at this. Louis took his seat as told to do by the owner and the lights dimmed low and a single spotlight landed on the host.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to Cheshire's Annual Poetry Slam Convention. I'm your host, Alex Inglewood. Tonight we will be welcomed by two of the town’s most talented poets less than 30 years of age. The two young men performing today are Richard Benward and Harold McFlinn." Louis smiled. He remembers why Harry had chosen this name.

 

__"I don't want people to know it's me, not even my own mum. I want this to be my own thing. That's why I always tell my mum to read a piece of Harold McFlinn’s work and have her say her honest opinion. It feels right to get a good come back even though she knows it's not me."_ _

Louis was amazed by how wonderful this boy is and he still is in such fond over this kid.

"First up will be the marvelous 28 year old, Richard Benward." The host introduced and the café got full of claps and cheers. Louis shrugged it off; he knew his baby was going to blow the crowd away.

"The poem is called, Gaze.

It was moving horizontally,

Mocking me for I could not move.

It looked at me with no emotion.

It as faceless,

Had no complexion.

It made me feel anger,

For I could not see what it was.

It laughed at me,

No mouth to show its joy,

 In seeing me suffer.

It was surrounded by darkness,

No light other than their luminous glow

Imitating the sun's surface.

It was moving horizontally,

Until all that was left was a sound that made noise pleasurable,

But silence deadly.”

“Holy fuck,” Louis thinks, his ears pounding at the yelling crowd. He winced.

"That wasn't even fucking good?" He spoke to his self, earning a few looks from people, but he didn't mind because he knew he was right. It took a minute for them to quiet down and he took his stare off of that Richard guy which, __"Dick."__ He laughed out. The irony.

 

"Next up, our favorite 26 year old poet, we all know him, the outstanding, Harold McFlinn." And again, holy fucking shit, the crowd went ape-shit. This was intense, even for Louis and he wasn't even the one performing. The lights dimmed once more, the place becoming pitch-black.

There was a screeching sound of the microphone and a very audible, "Can there please be light?"

            Louis stared at the person in charge of the lights with a confused look, and then faced Harry who was on stage already, both hands grabbing the microphone which was held tightly on the stand, his stare directly on Louis’ eyes.

"I've come to know a man who's brave and bold and mighty as might can be.

He's handsome, with a heart of gold, yet gladly, he's not me.

I've come to know a man who's smart and sage and bright as bright can be.

He's grand and comic, with laughing eyes- yet gladly, he's not me.

I've come to know a man who's not so strong or quintessential as perfect can be.

But he sure does loves a guy with all his heart- well damn- now that must be me.

It's been a while and yes, now I know

That I can't think about ever letting you go.

From the first time we met

You said your first hello,

Followed by an oops, of myself, but oh did our conversation grow.

You are my impossible become possible.

A messenger from the sensational sky,

The one who has shown me what life is and boy did you make me cry.

You have taught me I have someone I can always count on

To be there endlessly and never say bye.

You are the one who'll shed tears when and if my heart ever bleeds.

The one I have wanted to share my life with, thee."

At this point, Louis was confused and his heart was on the floor. His feet were probably gone and his lungs were cut short of air. It was all so surreal. Harry grabbed the microphone by hand and made his way off of the stage, his stare still directed on his. His eyes were watering up, but so were Louis’. His lips quivered at the sight, and __"Oh God."__ He said as his hands came up to cover his mouth.

"So now I ask you this.

Will please you take my hand?

And be the person who will always understand?

I want to grow old with you."

Louis’ eyes were losing sight, his hearing becoming the most fragile thing, his ability to hear Harry’s heart beat a million beats per second making his own heart rate increase as well, the overwhelming sensation taking over his body causing him to be a literal statue. He shut his eyes as he saw Harry get down on one knee, his hand making its way to his suits pocket, a cheeky smile sneaking its way up onto his face, tears streaming down his cheeks and a nervous giggle spill out of his mouth.

"I'm down on one knee.

And hey, you're the only one I'll ask.

So Louis William Tomlinson

Will you marry me?"

Louis covered his face and a sudden rush of all emotions possible came covering him up like a million gallons of water drowning him, not being able to open his mouth in fear of drowning. Harry’s eyes exposed nothing but fear, love, and deathly nerves —they were aching and Louis felt it. He felt his heartbeat, he felt his hands sweat even though his body was still on the floor, his knee holding his body up. Louis nodded, and in a quick second, a life-risking word escaped his lips in a whisper, "Yes." and yes, Louis __did__ want to marry Harry.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! I found this really fun to right and it's absolutely my favorite! PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS !!!!!


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